


Mud on the Roots

by GettingMetaphysical



Series: All by Myself: A Doctorcest Storyline [9]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Doctorcest, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Mind Meld, Mind Sex, Romance, Self-cest, doctorbation - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 09:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3204047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettingMetaphysical/pseuds/GettingMetaphysical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Please, Doctor. I can wipe it immediately afterwards, I just want to feel it again. Its been so long. Telepathic bonding The Eleventh Doctor tried to avoid his Ninth selfs pleading eyes. I suppose we could Its just, well, like you said, been so long. Im afraid Ive become rusty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mud on the Roots

**Author's Note:**

> A little something that happened because I wanted an entire oneshot to explain/explore mindsex.
> 
> * * *

  
”Please, Doctor. I can wipe it immediately afterwards, I just want to feel it again. It’s been so long.”

”Telepathic bonding…” The Eleventh Doctor tried to avoid his Ninth self’s pleading eyes. ”I suppose we could… It’s just, well, like you said, been so long. I’m afraid I’ve become rusty.” _When it comes to Time Lords_ , he finished in his head.

”That’s alright," said Nine. ”I’ll take whatever I can do.”

”But am I sure I can handle it?”

”Yeah. It hasn’t been as long for me, as it has for you.”

”True…” The older Doctor looked vaguely into one of the corridors. ”A bed would be good, sitting is quite unruly for first times…”

But Nine’s hands already cupped his face, daring him to return his gaze. Eleven swallowed, then leaned forehead against forehead.

”Contact.”

The two Time Lords took a few deep breaths, concentrated. When the older felt the small sparks of response (maybe too small, he worried), he managed to focus himself into a white hot point.

”… _Oh_ ,” he heard Nine’s voice, and that voice echoed again as groaning, gasping, affection inside the mind Eleven was reaching into.

At first, the Ninth Doctor’s consciousness would try to block the not-so unfamiliar mind crawling through his defenses, mental claws slashing at the coiling point, which burst into several more, hundreds of smoke-soft but snake-steady extensions of himself. As they slithered along, nudging and petting faint spots, sweet spots, the younger mind’s instinct was soon tamed, enough to begin softening.

Nine’s brittle, frost-sharp mentality, so long without connection, slowly thawed, and it pooled around Eleven’s caressing velvet branches. The younger consciousness did try prodding in response, but it could do nothing more specific than grapple in every direction… Writhing and steaming, it went from steely blue to rosy purple. His elder let him pour onto the very surface of him, like warm mud among large oaken roots.

Nine wouldn’t get too far in him; his walls were strong.

As he coiled further, Eleven had to stop when he got to the core of his younger self. The defenses were giant back here, thick trunks in bushes of stone and storm, and they weren’t yielding for any stroke, any heat, any love.

So the older Time Lord looked for gaps, cracks in the wall, and found a tiny, melty one.

In the physical world, the Doctor gasped and sort of fell into a deep kiss with himself, who’s knees shook, who was only still standing because his elder’s body had found a railing to steady against.

_Nine (Ninth, listen to me, Doctor, young Me)_ , the Eleventh tried to say. Each word - written and spoken, flashing and floating - twisted between them with associations.

_Eleven (Doctor? Doctor who? Eleven? Eleventh Doctor, old Doctor, Friend, Companion, Lover, Doctor, Mine? Sweethearts, Bastard, eldest Doctor, Old Me, Mine)_

_Focus (Nine, Dear)_

_Trying (so hard, help, it’s been so long, what am I, doing, do, fuck, I can’t, fuck? Trying!)_

_Think **harder**_

_I’m (trying oh, damn) so lost (good)_

_My Sweethearts_

_(aahn) Tarts (hehe)_

Eleven smiled, and made sure Nine could feel it.

_A bed would be good (Lying down) You’re heavy_

_(Really?) I feel light (light-right as rain. Pitter-patter, drip-drop. Inside, mmm, Yes) Sorry you’re probably, Right was too hasty_

The older mind’s branches slipped away. _Let go_

The warm mud dried somewhat and rolled back in chunks. __

_(ah, aaah!) Help (I'm ???)_

_Relax…_

As they opened their eyes, both - for a second - saw each face at once, as one. Eleven slinked back into his proper head quick enough to discover Nine’s face flushed and glazed with sweat. He touched his own cheek, and yep, just as sweaty… and very dizzy, oh dear. He wobbled a little when Nine wrapped him up in his embrace. For a few minutes the two hugged, panting. Four hearts slowed to beat at normal pace.

The younger Time Lord sighed, then realized his partner wouldn’t hear him like that anymore. He cleared his throat.

”That was…”

”Yes?” Eleven blinked sleepily, feeling rather tranquil for once, actually… calm.

”I think both of me needed this," Nine chuckled.

”Ah-hum, maybe…” The older man snuggled closer to him. ”Bed. Find a bed. We can fall asleep like this, it’d be so nice…”

”Like old times? Won’t that be bad, though?”

”Hn, why?”

”Y’know.” Nine pulled away to look him in the eyes again. ”Your spoilers. I’m not naive, Doctor. You were keeping me out.”

”So were you.”

”Only because I’ve got no clue how to let you in anymore.”

”It’s not that you can’t. You’re just scared.”

It was Nine’s turn to avoid the other’s gaze.

Eleven let go, and led his young self by the hand to a passage, out into a corridor.

”Could I…” Nine hesitated at the bedroom doorway, folded his arms. ”Maybe I could wake us up in time?”

Eleven bounced down on the bed, peeled off his shoes and spread out over the covers. ”I can. I will.”

The younger Doctor walked over. ”You remember this ending?”

”Not really. I’ll just try my best. Besides," he paused to roll over to the furthermost side while Nine took off his boots, ”you did say you would erase it if I see it fit.”

Nine froze where he sat, leather-clothed back against the other Doctor. Hundreds of associations ran through the Lone Time Lord’s mind before he spoke again. Slightly hoarse. ”I… changed my mind.”

His partner sat up to lay his arms around him. The sudden touch made him shiver. 

”Glad you did,” Eleven mumbled. ”Because I want to keep doing this. I forgot how nice it feels.”

”Let me in deeper," Nine blurted out. ”You feel so ancient. Old, like none of me before. I want to _feel you_ , Eleven.” He hugged the arms on his chest.  

Eleven nuzzled his neck. ”…We’ll see.”

Nine nodded, and they separated to take their jackets off. Eleven let his young self untie his bow tie (if they against all odds lost control, he’d rather not get choked and rely on the bypass system) and they laid on their backs beside each other - young on the left, old on the right. Funny though, appearance-wise it seemed the opposite. Eleven reflected on how typically chaste they must look on the outside, fully clothed and not even touching (his hands were clasped over his stomach, Nine’s were behind his head).

Turning his neck, he readied a swirling mental peak to aim at his counterpart’s forehead. Already he felt Nine’s psyche better - since it couldn’t yet drill in just one direction, it opted to open for him. Sort of like a small blossom with never-ending roots.

”Contact," Nine said. Gave him a small smile.

”Contact.”

They closed their eyes.  


* * *

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This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=54510>


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